An Ace In The Hole
by London Sparrow
Summary: All Ace wanted to do was find out who her real father was. She didn't want to catch the attention of the Mob. She certainly didn't want the Joker's attention. But now Ace is being hunted by men who are holding grudges against her father, as well as the Clown Prince of Crime who plans to make her his ace in the hole for the battle of Gotham's soul. Time is running out.


_**Chapter One**_

A heavy rain pounded the windows of the penthouse, leaving droplets that raced one another to the ledge. The dark sky cast a dreary shadow over the city and it seemed that not even the streetlamps, shining bright in the early hours of the morning, could not shed enough light to rid the streets of the darkness.

"Good morning, Miss Wayne," a genteel British voice said behind me.

I turned from the window and smiled at Alfred, who was looking fresh and rested despite the unsightly hour. "Good morning," I responded. He held out the tray he was carrying and I accepted a tall glass of orange juice. "Bruce hasn't come home yet," I said, taking a small sip of the juice, hoping it would calm my nerves.

Alfred shook his head. "Not yet, milady."

Sighing, I turned back to the window and peered down at the dark streets. I'd known Bruce to stay out late every night, but already it was five in the morning, and he still hadn't come home. The latest he'd returned before was around two-thirty, breathless and bloody but masculinely exhilarated despite my scolding.

Whenever he decided to show up today, he was going to get a tongue-lashing.

Alfred came to stand beside me. His presence was a comfort and I shifted closer to him to rest my head on his shoulder. He was the closest thing I had to a father now. Before Mr. Wayne had been my father figure, but now he and Mrs. Wayne were both gone, and so it fell upon Alfred's shoulders to care for Bruce and I, though in my opinion my brother was the one who needed more looking after.

"Where could he be?" I wondered aloud, tracing the side of the glass with a shaking finger. "He was supposed to be back hours ago." Even though both of us knew this wasn't true, considering Bruce's habits when he dressed up as the caped crusader, I still voiced it.

The aging butler pressed a kiss into my hair and whispered, "He'll come home. Master Wayne always returns."

I lifted my head and looked up at him. He winked at me and turned to go, but not before placing the tray on a nearby table. For the first time I noticed what he had placed on the tray: several plates, all piled high with an assortment of eggs, bacon, and pancakes. I smiled at his thoughtfulness and felt a pang of remorse for not touching the delicious food, but my stomach was tied up in balls of nerves, and the thought of putting food into it made me want to gag.

On the table, my cell phone vibrated, and I snatched it up wildly. Flipping it open, I pressed it to my ear and said, "Hello?" My fingers crossed on my free hand while my heart pounded, pulsing hope throughout my body.

"Ace?"

"Bruce!" I cried, nearly falling to the floor with relief. "Where are you?"

"I'm on my way to the warehouse," I heard him say over the sound of tires squealing. "Listen, Ace. I need you and Alfred to head over there right away." He sucked in a deep breath and I heard him curse.

"Bruce? Are you alright?"

He muttered something about a dog. "Just get over there as soon as you can. I'll meet you there."

The dial tone sounded in my ear. I pulled the phone away and stared at it. "Oh, you did not just hang up on me!" I snapped, closing the phone and tossing it on the table.

"Miss Wayne?" Alfred called. I looked up and saw that he was standing in by the elevator, holding up a set of keys. "Shall we go?"

I grinned. "Give me five minutes."

* * *

Ten minutes later, we pulled up beside a large red dumpster. Pulling my hood down over my head, I darted out of the Lamborghini and ran around to the dumpster. Alfred quickly unlocked the doors and I slipped inside, blinking against the lack of light.

My butler slipped in beside me and closed the door, plunging us into complete darkness. There was a series of beeps, and then the floor jolted beneath our feet and began dropping at a steady rate. I gripped Alfred's arm and refused to let go. I'd done this before, of course, but somehow the drop never got easier to handle.

"Are you alright, milady?" Alfred asked, his gentle voice echoing in the elevator.

"Yes. Thank you, Alfred."

The elevator abruptly stopped, and the doors slid open. My eyes closed against the sudden onslaught of light. I felt Alfred begin moving forward and I carefully walked forward with him, allowing my eyelids to crack open a tiny bit to begin adjusting to the light.

"Master Wayne?" Alfred called. I opened my eyes fully and saw my brother sitting in front in front of his computer screens. His head was bent, and for a moment I panicked, but then his hand moved and I caught the glint of a needle.

"Bruce, are you alright?" I demanded, letting go of Alfred and moving forward quickly.

Bruce turned his head towards me and gave me a smile. "Yeah," he said. "Just got nicked in a fight."

"Did you get mauled by a tiger?" Alfred asked, making me giggle.

My brother scowled. "Dog."

"What?"

"It was a _big _dog."

I giggled again, and my brother looked up at me. He smiled and waved me over with his other arm. I moved over to him and he pulled me onto his lap, burrowing his nose in my hair.

"You're all wet," he remarked, and I shot him an exasperated look.

"It's raining, dummy," I told him, and Bruce growled at me playfully. He opened his mouth to make a snappy comeback, but his phone rang and effectively cut him off. I stuck my tongue out at him childishly, no doubt looking more like a seven-year-old than a seventeen-year-old.

"Hello?" Bruce said, sounding only mildly annoyed. His eyebrows lowered into a frown as he listened to whoever was on the other end. Alfred cast me a worried glance just as Bruce said, "Yeah. Be right there."

He hung up and gently nudged me off of his knee. "Who was that?" I asked, watching him quickly pull on a shirt and jacket.

"Gordon," he grunted. "There's been a break-in."


End file.
